


'Cause You're Hot Then You're Cold

by sparksaam



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Dehydration, Drowning, Fainting, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heat Stroke, Hurt Peter Parker, Hypothermia, Irondad, Missions, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Can't Thermoregulate, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Platonic Cuddling, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Self-Sacrifice, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, The Avengers Get Along, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump, battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparksaam/pseuds/sparksaam
Summary: For a moment, things grew quiet. The only sounds were Peter’s ragged breaths and the dull roar of the river beside them. The three older Avengers watched the kid carefully, parental instincts peeking out behind their gruff exteriors. In a few minutes, Peter’s coughing ceased, and his breathing began to even out. Tony began to relax a little, only to realize that the kid was now shaking violently. Steve made the same observation.“You cold, bud?”Peter nodded quickly, wrapping his arms around his knees tightly. His lips were blue, and in the bright sunshine, his face was ghostly pale.Bruce leaned toward Peter and rubbed his hands up and down the boy’s arms, trying to warm him up.“I think he’s hypothermic. We need to get him back to the jet.”Just then, Clint jogged up to the huddle of Avengers in the grass.“Wasn’t he just…”“Passed out from heat stroke?” Tony offered. “Yeah. And now he’s hypothermic. Get with the program Barton.”OROnly Peter Parker could get both heat stroke AND hypothermia, all within the span of an hour.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 28
Kudos: 760





	'Cause You're Hot Then You're Cold

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! first of all, i am BLOWN AWAY by all the love you guys gave my last fic. I might've cried happy tears. anyway, here's another 5k words where i whump the heck out of peter parker (suprise, surprise). honestly i have mixed feelings about this one but i hope you like it!!

The avengers spent plenty of time dealing with idiots. Too many days had been exhausted cleaning up the messes of evil geniuses and emotionally constipated masterminds, and today was no different.

This afternoon, the idiot in question was some Rich Kid from Carnegie Hill with a glorified erector set. He’d built a small army of experimental drones, apparently planning to release the machines on his office building to exact revenge on his good-for-nothing boss. However, the plan had backfired, and now the drones were causing small explosions and wreaking havoc on central park in what could only be considered an Avengers Level Threat. While the drones weren’t incredibly dangerous, there were a _lot_ of them, and almost all the Avengers showed up to help.

For the older, more experienced members of the team, the job was nothing more than a headache. But for Peter, who at sixteen years old still got excited about the ice cream truck, any job with the Avengers was like Christmas. Especially a job involving _explosions_.

The heroes, who were used to taking down aliens and war criminals, had quickly rounded up the flying machines and deposited them in the Hudson River with ease, where they sunk to the bottom to meet their watery fate. Peter, much to everyone’s surprise, had been the star of the show, webbing up the machines by the dozen as he swung from tree to tree. His Spidey-senses allowed him to dodge the blasts of the drones with ease, and in no time the threat was eliminated. _Or so they thought._

“Good work, everybody. Meet back at the quinjet in ten for debriefing.” Cap’s voice crackled through the coms, which was quickly met by a chorus of affirmatives.

Peter was exhausted and quickly overheating, but he was still riding the high of the battle, as small as it was. He didn’t think he’d _ever_ get used to the idea of fighting alongside his childhood heroes.

The kid quickly whipped around on his webs, swinging in the direction of the jet, which was stationed at the North end of the park. When he spotted a shady spot under a tree off to his left, Peter slowed down to take a well-deserved break.

His shoes made a soft _thud_ in the grass as Peter landed on the ground, breathing heavily through his mask. He stumbled over to the nearest tree and leaned up against it, finally slowing down to catch his breath. He sighed involuntarily as he basked in the shade, grateful to escape the ruthless mid-day sun.

_Was it hot out here, or was it just him?_

Now that he’d finally stopped to rest, he was suddenly aware of how _off_ he felt. The inside of his suit was sticky and damp with sweat, and Peter was uncomfortable to say the least. It wasn’t that hot outside, only seventy degrees or so, but after swinging around Central Park for the better part of the last hour, dodging small explosions, the kid had broken into a serious sweat. Irritated, Peter noted the beginning of a headache blooming behind his eyes and a worrying churn in his stomach.

_Man, he was warm._

“Karen, turn down the temperature in my suit.” He asked his AI, still breathing heavily.

“I’m afraid the air conditioning feature in your suit has been damaged, Peter. You’ll need to repair it as soon as possible.”

_Huh. That explained a lot._

Before he had time to pull off his mask, Tony jogged up next to him, followed by Steve, Natasha, and Clint. Tony clamped a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder in greeting, which made the kid stumble slightly. He quickly regained his balance as the billionaire addressed him.

“Good work out there, Underoos. Not too bad for a kid in a onesie.”

Any other day, Peter might have returned Tony’s jab with a witty comeback, but the sudden wave of dizziness that flooded over him quelled any chance of a clever reply. He quickly grabbed a hold of the tree trunk beside him to steady himself. Despite Peter’s attempt to hide his discomfort, Steve eyed him with suspicion.

“You okay, kid?”

Peter felt his face flush as he watched the worry flash across his team members’ faces. Tony addressed the kid, his voice serious.

“Peter…”

“I’m fine, I promise!” He stammered quickly, desperate to escape the gazes of the other heroes, who were now watching him with concern. He attempted to head toward the jet, but Tony, still clad in his Iron Man suit, stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his path.

“Mask off. Now.” Tony’s voice was severe enough that Peter knew he meant business. Sighing in defeat, he slowly peeled the sweaty mask off his face. The cool air felt heavenly against the flushed skin of his cheeks.

Apparently, Peter looked as horrible as he felt, because the gesture was met with a chorus of winces and furrowed brows. Clint was the first to speak up.

“ _Geez,_ kid. You’re just as red without the mask as you are with it on.”

Natasha shoved him hard in the ribs, eliciting a pained grunt from the archer. Steve stepped forward suddenly, taking Peter’s sweaty hands gently in his own.

“Here, sit down. It’ll help you feel better.” Peter gratefully accepted the man’s advice and took a careful seat against the tree, leaning up against the trunk and closing his eyes. He was really dizzy now, and he felt like he might throw up. His head was throbbing angrily. A large bead of sweat dripped down his temple, and Peter wiped it away lazily.

Tony, who had paled at the kid’s awful complexion, quickly got down on his knees in front of Peter.

“FRIDAY, why is he flushed like that? Give me his vitals.” The command was calm, but Peter could see the worry in his mentor’s gaze.

“Mr. Parker’s heart rate is abnormally fast, and his body temperature is steadily rising. He appears to be displaying signs of heat stroke and dehydration.”

“Shit.” Tony gently put a hand on the kid’s shoulder in sympathy. “Anyone got any water?”

Steve crouched down, flashing Peter a soft smile of solace before handing the kid his water bottle. Peter grabbed the drink gratefully with trembling hands and pulled it to his lips. In a few seconds, he’d chugged the contents of the bottle. The super soldier ran his hand through the kid’s sopping curls playfully.

“Wow. FRIDAY wasn’t kidding about the dehydration.”

“How are you feeling Peter? Any better?” Natasha gently probed, her eyes searching the kid’s face with concern.

At the question, Peter just shrugged. The water helped a little, but he still felt like he’d been run over by a truck. No—a train, actually.

Chewing his cheek in worry, Tony let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding before turning his attention to the other team members. In seconds, he was barking out orders.

“Rogers, grab him some more water from the quinjet. Ice if you can find it. Barton, see if you can find some Gatorade or something with sugar. And Natasha—”

The man was interrupted by a sudden, guttural roar to their right. The Hulk lumbered into view, a few hundred yards away, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

“I’ve got the green guy.”

“Alright, good. Bring Bruce over here when he’s calmed down. I could use his expertise right now.”

Natasha nodded as the rest of the Avengers set off toward the jet before heading in the direction of Dr. Banner.

“Got it.”

When Tony and Peter were left alone, the man turned to look at the kid again. Peter’s eyes had fluttered closed, and his head was propped lazily up against the trunk of the tree. His face was bright red and blotchy, gleaming with a shimmering layer of sweat.

“Hey, kid?”

“Yeah?” Peter grunted in response, wincing at the throbbing pain in his head.

“Any idea how you managed to get heatstroke? In seventy-degree weather? In a multi-million-dollar air-conditioned suit?” Tony didn’t sound mad, but even in his hazy state Peter picked up the concern in his mentor’s voice.

“Air conditioning’s broke.” He replied lethargically. “That, and sp’ders can’t thermoregulate.”

Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair absentmindedly, silently cursing himself for not checking up on the condition of Peter’s suit recently. It had been a while since it was last repaired, and the Spidey-suit was long overdue for a tune-up.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo. FRIDAY never told me about any issues with your suit. I would’ve fixed it if I knew.”

“’s not your fault, Mr. Stark. It was working fine before today. ‘s just Parker luck.”

Peter’s response elicited a grimace from Tony. Even if the kid didn’t blame him, the man blamed himself. It always felt like Peter was getting hurt on his watch.

Tony’s self-deprecating train of thought was interrupted suddenly by the chime of a bell, just a few hundred yards away from where he and Peter were sitting. His gaze followed the sound to a little cart parked near the edge of the park, manned by a kind-looking, old man. _Snow cones._ Tony didn’t really believe in God, but he might consider this to be a moment of divine intervention.

Mr. Stark quickly bounced up from where he was crouched next to the kid.

“How about a snow cone? That would help you cool down, right bud?”

Peter’s stomach rolled suddenly, repelled by the idea of a sugary dessert. Honestly a snow cone was the last thing he wanted right now, but Tony was so desperate for a way to help him that Peter simply nodded in response, his eyes still squeezed shut against the pounding in his head and the queasy churning in his gut.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks Mr. Stark.” He forced a small smile.

Tony turned on his heels in the direction of the snow cone stand.

“Don’t move, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Peter groaned quietly, but Tony was already out of earshot.

Left alone suddenly, the boy assessed his situation. Here he was, propped helplessly up under a tree in Central Park, with a blotchy face, a dizzying headache, and an obscene amount of sweat dripping off of him. _Gross._ Even worse, half of the avengers were frantically scrambling around trying to find something to make him feel better. Embarrassed wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the humiliation Peter felt. _Mortified_ was more accurate. Peter spent practically all his energy trying to prove to the Avengers that he was tough and could handle whatever they threw at him, only to be taken out by a mild seventy-degree day in the park. Figures.

A cool breeze picked up suddenly, rustling the leaves in the tree above him and extracting a small whimper of relief from Peter. He opened his eyes, looking toward the quinjet. He couldn’t make out anyone coming toward him; they must still be inside looking for supplies. Over to his left, Peter could see Tony, small in the distance, chatting up the snow cone man.

The kid looked in the other direction. In the sky over the street, what looked like a large bird caught his eye. It was flying away from him, toward a school playground in the direction of the river. Peter squinted at the creature against the bright, mid-day sun, trying to see it better.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Peter’s breath caught in his throat. What he’d mistaken to be a bird wasn’t a bird at all. It was one of the drones. He thought they’d taken them all down, but this one must have escaped their grasp. To make matters worse-- _so_ much worse-- the machine was heading toward an elementary school, where dozens of little kids were playing outside on the playground. If he didn’t do something fast, Peter didn’t want to imagine what would happen.

For a moment, he was conflicted. Peter still felt like crap. If he were to get up from his shady spot under the tree, there was no guarantee that his jelly legs wouldn’t collapse under him. On top of that, if Tony (or any of the other Avengers for that matter) found out he’d put himself in further peril while suffering from heat stroke, they might kill him themselves. But Peter knew he couldn’t just sit there while those kids were in danger. If he didn’t do anything and someone got hurt, it would be because of him.

With a pained grunt, Peter hoisted himself up against the tree, leaning on it for support as he tested his legs. They were a bit shaky, but the kid was pleasantly surprised to find that he could stand on his own. Biting back a wave of nausea, Peter wasted no time, shooting a web onto a nearby streetlamp and swinging forward toward the school.

As he began his pursuit toward the drone, Peter had one thing going for him: the bot was slower than he was. If he kept swinging at this pace, he would be able to intercept the machine before it could hurt any of those kids.

The stream of air rushing past Peter as he swung down the boulevard was refreshing, and the coolness of the blast revived him a bit. His skin still felt hot, but the headache wasn’t quite as sharp as it had been before. With a redeemed sense of vigor, Peter swung faster toward the drone. He wasn’t sure why everyone was overreacting before. If he could swing through the city to chase a rogue bot, the heat stroke must not have been _too_ severe, _right_?

In minutes, the kid had caught up to the bot, swinging forcefully until he was right on the machine’s tail. In one swift movement, Peter aimed his web shooter expertly at the drone, the web latching on perfectly. He swung down until he was hanging from the flying machine from his web, still headed toward the school.

“Gotcha, you worthless piece of junk.”

He tugged tightly on the web, causing the bot to swerve off its course. Suddenly, the drone was flying away from the school, much to Peter’s relief, and dragging the young hero along with it. However, Peter’s relief was short lived, as the bot was now heading straight for a tall steel building.

_Damn Parker luck._

“Turn!” The kid yelled frantically at the machine currently pulling him through the air toward the building, as if the drone had ears. As the building quickly approached, Peter braced himself for collision.

However, at the last minute, the drone’s self-preservation instincts must have kicked in. The machine swerved suddenly upward and sideways toward the river, pulling the kid with it. Peter’s foot missed colliding with the building by mere centimeters, and he suddenly found himself being pulled upwards over the Hudson at an alarming rate.

Sighing in relief at not being crushed against the side of the wall like—well-- a _bug_ , Peter scrambled to keep a hold on his web as the rogue bot pulled him upward. They were no longer over the street, but flying over the water, ascending heavenward at an alarming rate.

A new fear gripped Peter, as he was pulled higher and higher. Looking down, he saw the crashing waves of the river below him, and a sudden dizzy spell hit him violently. Before he knew what was happening, his vision went black, and he barely felt his hands slip from the web before he lost consciousness, plummeting limply toward the water.

Peter had heard rumors that landing in water after falling from up high hurt as bad as hitting concrete, but he’d never had the chance (or the will) to test that theory until today.

Unfortunately, the force of hitting the water was so abrupt that it pulled Peter from his heat-induced unconscious state. He woke right as his body hit the cold water with a _SMACK_ that reverberated through his bones and knocked the air out of his lungs. In seconds, the young hero was plunged deep underwater, too stunned to move. The shock of the cold water enveloping him was a strange, almost-welcome contrast to the overwhelming heat just moments earlier. However, the pain from the impact of the fall was still coursing through his whole body. And, _he couldn’t breathe._

Fighting against his useless limbs, Peter attempted to propel himself upwards toward the surface of the water, desperate to fill his aching lungs with air. Every movement sent waves of shock through his body, but after a painful struggle, the kid’s head resurfaced above the water.

Gasping, Peter pulled as much air into his lungs as possible, ignoring the way his throat and chest burned as he desperately pulled in oxygen. His limbs were still heavy, but as the shock of hitting the water wore off Peter found he was able to tread water just enough to keep his head above the surface.

Back at the park, Tony had just finished a long chat with the snow cone vendor. As nice as the guy had been, it took Tony almost ten minutes to duck out of the conversation and get back to check on his kid. The vendor had been so excited to have one of the world’s greatest heroes as a customer, and he had proceeded to tell Tony a long story about his son’s Iron Man-themed birthday party. Tony had graciously listened to the man’s story, but his thoughts were still with the kid, overheating miserably under the tree on the other side of the park. As soon as Tony had said his goodbyes, he bolted back toward Peter. 

Upon arriving at the tree where he had left the kid, Tony’s heart skipped a beat. In the shaded spot under the tree when Tony had left the kid only ten minutes ago, there was only a Peter-shaped imprint in the grass. The kid was nowhere in sight.

Tony tried to reassure himself as he raced toward the quinjet. _He was inside the jet with Cap and the others. Yeah, that was it. Sitting on the bench with some ice packs and a big bottle of water. Joking with the other Avengers, maybe._ Tony held onto this image like a lifeline; he knew that if he allowed his mind to think about the infinite other places Peter could be—most of them involving the kid passed out somewhere, he’d start to panic.

When he reached the jet, Tony was out of breath. His eyes darted wildly around the vehicle, desperately searching for the kid. To his dismay, Peter wasn’t there. Instead, he found the other Avengers mingling around. Natasha was talking softly to Bruce, who, despite a green-ish complexion, looked to be back to normal. Steve was rummaging through a cooler in search of ice packs. Clint was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s the kid?” Tony didn’t mean to yell, but the Avengers in the jet all jumped at his voice.

Steve rushed forward, his voice rising.

“What do you mean, Tony? I thought he was with _you_.”

Tony plopped himself into a seat, running his hands over his face in defeat.

“He _was._ I left him for just a few minutes to try and get something to cool him down. When I came back, he was gone.”

“Wait—what happened to Peter?” Bruce paled, looking at his friends inquisitively.

Tony shot an exasperated look at Natasha.

“Weren’t you supposed to fill him in?”

Nat rolled her eyes.

“I was _going_ to, but he just calmed down. I didn’t exactly have _time_.”

Steve turned to Bruce, speaking softly.

“The heater in Peter’s suit broke and he started to overheat. FRIDAY said he was displaying signs of heat stroke.”

The doctor’s eyebrows shot up.

“And now he’s _missing?”_

“And now he’s missing.” Tony confirmed, bouncing his leg nervously.

Natasha was the first one to come to her senses.

“Can’t you just ask FRIDAY where he is? He’s still in the suit, right?”

Tony smacked his forehead suddenly in exasperation. _Duh._ Without wasting another moment, he called quickly to his AI.

“FRIDAY, get me Peter’s location. Now.”

The AI was quick to respond.

“Mr. Parker appears to be in the Hudson River, about a mile West of your current location.”

Tony froze.

“I’m sorry. Did you say _in_ the river?”

“Yes, Sir. That is correct.”

The man clenched his first as he sprung from his seat. His tone was nothing less than fuming.

“You didn’t think to tell me that my kid was in the _river?”_

“I was programmed to alert you only when Peter’s vitals are at dangerous levels. Currently, the river is 48 degrees Fahrenheit, bringing his temperature only slightly below its normal level.”

Bruce piped up, careful to avoid Tony’s fury.

“The cool water probably helped with the heatstroke. This might actually be a blessing in disguise.”

“How long has he been in there, FRI?” Tony asked, his face plate flipping back on. While he was relieved Peter’s temperature had gone down, he found it hard to celebrate the news when Peter was neck-deep in the Hudson.

“About twenty-five minutes, Sir.”

Tony’s stomach flipped at the words. _Peter had been in the water for twenty-five minutes before anyone had noticed?_ If there were a prize for “Worst Guardian Ever”, Tony was sure he’d take home the gold.

Instead of taking out any more anger on his AI, the man redirected his energy elsewhere, racing toward the door as his thrusters powered up. He gestured impatiently to the other Avengers behind him.

“Come on. We’ve got a kid to rescue.”

Meanwhile, Peter was still treading water desperately. As hard as he tried to stay afloat, the strong river current and his heavy limbs were working against him. About ten minutes after he’d hit the water, the chill of the river had started to sink into the kid’s limbs. A few minutes later, his legs and torso had gone numb. A few times, his head had slipped under the water and he’d gagged on a mouthful of water, only to re-emerge a few seconds later, coughing and sputtering frantically in an effort to expel the water from his lungs.

He’s assumed someone would notice he was gone by now. At the very least, FRIDAY should have alerted Mr. Stark of his predicament. But as the minutes passed, Peter became more and more worried that he’d drown before the Avengers got to him.

Try as he might to reach the shore, the strong currents of the Hudson kept pulling him back toward the center of the river. He’d given up trying to swim ashore, instead putting his remaining energy to keeping his head above the water as he was pulled submissively by the current.

His tingling limbs ached terribly, echoing the matching ache of salt water in his lungs. Peter wouldn’t notice it until later, but he was shaking violently from the cold.

After almost twenty-five minutes of trying to stay afloat, Peter couldn’t do it anymore. He hurt all over despite the numbness, and he was finally convinced that no one was looking for him. The idea of giving into the pull of the current and letting himself sink to the bottom of the river almost sounded tempting if it would relieve the burning of his tired limbs and the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed down on him like an anchor.

It was at that moment that Tony, who had been flying at breakneck speed toward the river, spotted Peter’s head below him, bobbing above the waves. He dove toward the kid, just in time to see Peter disappear under the surface of the water. Tony’s breath caught in his throat.

“ _No!”_

The man flung himself forward, breaking the surface of the water abruptly and plunging himself into the river. In seconds, his groping hands made contact with Peter’s limp arm. Frantically, Tony grabbed the kid under the armpits and propelled himself and his precious cargo upward and out of the water.

As soon as they were in the air, Peter became rigid in Tony’s arms. He gasped suddenly, greedily sucking oxygen into his starved lungs. Tony, whose pounding heart was threatening to jump right out of his chest, flew toward the riverbank. When they reached the shore, the man gently deposited the kid in the grass before landing himself, dropping to his knees in fatigue when his boots hit the ground.

“Don’t _ever_ do that again, kid. Practically gave me a damn heart attack.” Tony spoke, panting heavily.

Peter didn’t respond, only collapsed to the ground in exhaustion as he sucked in another strained breath. He coughed suddenly, choking on water as it dribbled from his open mouth. Tony winced at the kid’s raw-sounding throat and chest and quickly pounded him on the back to help him expel the water from his lungs.

Not thirty seconds after Peter and Tony had landed in the grass, Steve sprinted up to them, followed by Natasha and a very sweaty Dr. Banner. The three were breathing heavily, drained from running there so fast. Steve was the first to speak, his voice frantic.

“Is he alright? Can he breathe?”

“I think he’s okay. He can breathe.” Tony panted.

They were interrupted by another wet cough from Peter.

“Sounds like he got some water in his lungs, though.” The man continued.

“His legs must be exhausted.” Natasha winced. She squatted down by the boy and started rubbing his back comfortingly as the kid continued to cough up the water in his lungs.

“That’s it, kiddo. You’re doing great. Just _breathe.”_

For a moment, things grew quiet. The only sounds were Peter’s ragged breaths and the dull roar of the river beside them. The three older Avengers watched the kid carefully, parental instincts peeking out behind their gruff exteriors. In a few minutes, Peter’s coughing ceased, and his breathing began to even out. Tony began to relax a little, only to realize that the kid was now shaking violently. Steve made the same observation.

“You cold, bud?”

Peter nodded quickly, wrapping his arms around his knees tightly. His lips were blue, and in the bright sunshine, his face was ghostly pale.

Bruce leaned toward Peter and rubbed his hands up and down the boy’s arms, trying to warm him up.

“I think he’s hypothermic. We need to get him back to the jet.”

Just then, Clint jogged up to the huddle of Avengers in the grass, his face red and sweaty from the exercise. He was carrying a six pack of Gatorade.

“You missed all the drama, Katniss.” Natasha deadpanned, not bothering to look at the archer. Her eyes were still trained protectively on Peter, whose teeth were chattering loudly.

Clint bent over, putting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily as he started at Peter’s trembling form. His brow furrowed, and he turned to Tony.

“Wasn’t he just…”

“Passed out from heat stroke?” Tony offered. “Yeah. And now he’s hypothermic. Get with the program Barton.”

“C’mon.” Steve grunted, hoisting himself up onto his feet. “Let’s get Peter warm.”

In an instant, he’d effortlessly scooped up the shivering boy and was walking briskly toward the quinjet in the distance. The other Avengers followed suit.

Ten minutes later, they were safe inside the jet. Peter had been stripped of his soaking suit and outfitted in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, both of which were two big for him and appeared to swallow the shaking kid whole. They were warm though, and that was all that mattered. Steve had turned up the heat in the jet and Clint was busy making the kid a piping hot chocolate (with extra marshmallows, of course). Natasha had made Peter a nest of fuzzy pillows and blankets before she’d moved up front to pilot the jet back home. Peter now sat on Tony’s lap, wrapped like a burrito in blankets, slumped limply against his mentor’s chest. His eyes lazily watched the clouds pass by out the ship’s window. He was still shivering a bit, but the color was returning to his cheeks and lips, much to Tony’s relief. The kid looked downright exhausted, but he was breathing and still in one piece.

Tony began to run his fingers absentmindedly through the kid’s hair. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the man spoke up, his voice gentle.

“Peter?”

The boy hummed against Tony’s chest in response.

“I was gonna wait to ask, but I’m dying to know. How in the _world_ did you end up in the river?”

Peter sighed before mumbling.

“There was another one ‘f those drone things. It was heading toward a school. I thought it would hurt th’ kids ‘n’ I followed it.”

Tony’s fingers stopped in the kid’s curls. _How did he get stuck mentoring the most self-sacrificial kid in the world?_ _Even with heat stroke, the kid was still trying to help other people._ The man couldn’t hold back the smile that broke across his face. He paused before replying, softly.

“The world doesn’t deserve you, Peter Parker.”

The kid snuggled deeper into Tony’s chest, sighing sleepily. Tony wasn’t sure if he was still conscious or if he’d drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. The man resumed carding his fingers through Peter’s hair, thankful that the kid was safe in his arms. When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper.

“FRIDAY, remind me to fix the A/C in the kid’s suit.”

When the mechanic glanced up a few minutes later, he was surprised to see Bruce and Steve staring at him with twinkling eyes, grinning mischievously. Bruce mouthed something that looked suspiciously like _Daddy Stark._ Tony promptly flipped him off in response before turning back to the sleepy kid in his arms.

So what if he was protective over the kid? Peter was obviously too selfless for his own good sometimes, and he needed someone to make him feel safe and loved.

And, if Tony was being honest, Peter made him feel safe and loved too. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> if you read this THANK YOU and i love you with my whole heart. leave comments & kudos if you feel like it (it would make my day)! also, come say hi on tumblr (sparksaam)!
> 
> LOVE YOU!!!!
> 
> -sam


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